Marilyn Ann Owens – Photographer
Olav Løkke
'The painter constructs, the photographer discloses'
Susan Sontag, On Photography, 1977
The invention of photography, officially announced on 19 August 1839 at the French Academy of Sciences, marks one of the great paradigm shifts within visual communication, indeed in communication as such. A visual revolution that forever changed the way we humans see and interpret ourselves and our surroundings. The discovery had lain latent for a long time, ever since the Renaissance, in fact, manifesting itself in, for example, the widespread use of a camera obscura among artists and others who strived for the most naturalistic reproduction possible of their surroundings. From the beginning of the nineteenth century, science finally began to look more closely at how it might be possible to capture and retain an image drawn by nature itself.
Research on the matter was conducted concurrently in several different countries and scientific circles, but the first to register such a method was the Frenchman Louis M. Daguerre, who together with his late companion Nicéphore Niépce had developed the process. Fortunately, the French state was far-sighted enough to buy the patent and then give this ground-breaking invention to the world, a fact which greatly contributed to the rapid development of the medium and to its widespread dissemination.
Louis-Jacques-Mandé Daguerre, Still Life, 1837
The invention also caused quite an upheaval for those artists who had made a living by documenting historical events, famous (or infamous) figures, popular travel destinations and exotic places and people. Many professional draughtsmen and painters became unemployed, and a good number of these ventured into the new realm of photography, either as independent photographers or by using the new medium as a basis for their own drawings, prints and paintings.
Nicéphore Niépce, View from the Window at Le Gras, 1826
As a profession, traditional art had very much been the province of men, but with photography women quite literally entered the picture in earnest. The first woman photographer we know about for certain is Sarah Anne Bright from England, who produced photograms as early as 1839, and in 1843 Anna Atkins produced the world's very first photobook, featuring photograms of algae made using the cyanotype process.
Later, in the early 1860s, Julia Margaret Cameron took up photography, having been given a camera as a gift by her children to have something to do while her husband tended their tea farm in Ceylon. She went on to become one of the most famous photographers of the nineteenth century, with portraits of famous people and allegorical and symbolic scenes as her specialty.
Anna Atkins, Papaver Orientale Cyanotype, 1852–54
Victoria and Albert Museum, London
Photography entered the art scene at the Great Exhibition in London (1851) and the Exposition Universelle in Paris (1855). At these international expositions, photos by the leading photographers of the time were shown, among them Gustave le Gray and Henri le Secq (incidentally, le Secq was also a painter). The exposure also led to the formation of photographic societies, first in Britain in 1853, and a year later in France. They were the first organisations to assess photography on the basis of aesthetic or artistic criteria, and would play a decisive role in the development of photography as an artistic mode of expression up to and including our days.
Julia Margaret Cameron, The Rosebud Garden of Girls, 1868
As was mentioned above, a number of artists either entirely changed their mode of artistic expression or used the new medium as a basis for other techniques when photography became public property. Within the traditional art forms, discussion on the use of photography was rife. Some, such as Degas, made extensive use of photography as a basis for their paintings and drawings, while others preferred to hide the fact that they were drawing after such soulless, mechanical reference material. A third, and initially much smaller group used both techniques to create works of art in their own right, an approach that would grow in scope as time went on, yet has never really become as widespread as, for example, expressing oneself across the realms of painting, drawing, graphic arts and sculpture. Only in the last thirty to forty years can photography be said to have truly assumed a place as a natural part of an artist's arsenal of expression.
Gustave le Grey, Brick au clair de lune, 1856
The list of well-known artists who have used and exhibited photography as a mode of artistic expression in its own right makes for interesting reading. The first ones to do so mainly entered the art scene in the early twentieth century, particularly during the period after World War I. László Moholy-Nagy, who taught at the Bauhaus in the 1920s, was one of the pioneers within the Neue Sachlichkeit (New Objectivity) movement, spanning the fields of photography, painting and graphic arts.
American artist Man Ray arrived in Paris, immediately becoming part of the Surrealist scene there. He developed his own photographic technique, Rayography, which he taught to father and son Kurt and Ernst Schwitters. Several famous photographers were associated with Man Ray's studio, including Berenice Abbott, Lee Miller and Bill Brandt. Man Ray was often a little annoyed that most people preferred his photographic works to the more traditional ones, a fate that also befell artists such as Charles Sheeler in the United States.
Man Ray, Untitled Rayograph, Gun with Alphabet Stencils, 1924
Among the woman artists fulfilling a similar double role, mention must be made of Dora Maar: formerly most widely known for being Picasso's muse and mistress, recent years have seen her taking her rightful place in art history as a painter and photographer in her own right.
Ernst Schwitters, Projection, 1931
Lee Miller, Portrait of Space near Siwa, Egypt 1937
Bernice Abbott, Man in Café, 1930
Charles Sheeler, Doylestown House – Stairs from below, 1917
Seen in this light, Marilyn Ann Owens is part of a not particularly broad, yet strong and prominent tradition within art history.
Owens grew up in North-East England in the 1950s and 1960s, in a landscape and community greatly shaped by industry and coal mines. It was probably no coincidence that the most famous rock group from the area, The Animals from Newcastle, sang 'We've got to get out of this place / if it's the last thing we'll ever do' in the mid-60s. Still, it would prove to be a place and a landscape to which she constantly returns, a landscape of her childhood and youth that remains imprinted on her, and which has to a very great extent governed her aesthetic, personal and artistic growth.
While her father was born into a mining family, he had been an aerial photographer and tail gunner in a Lancaster bomber during the war, and he later got a position as a photographer with the local police. The shift in profession may have been something of a mixed blessing: in reaching a position above that of a miner on the social ladder, he also had to face the scepticism against policemen so widely embedded in the local community. In the early 2000s, I had the pleasure of showing a small selection of his photos taken during the course of his job. Displayed at Telemark kunstnersenter (TKS) at Øvre Frednes in Porsgrunn, the images provided an excellent if somewhat gloomy picture of the visual landscape in which Marilyn grew up. It is interesting to note how she has used two of his photos in two self-portraits that have been joined to form a dreamlike scene, a section of a deserted small-town landscape with a semi-transparent self-portrait in the foreground, almost reminiscent of the very popular 'spirit photographs' from around the dawn of the twentieth century.
Sunderland
Marilyn attended art school in Sunderland, focusing mainly on painting and printmaking. Photography was taught as an auxiliary subject, mainly in connection with sculpture, but was not, for Marilyn, a technique that she explored to any great extent. She has stated that generally speaking, there was little interest in photography, certainly not as a mode of artistic expression in its own right. Some photographs of hers from this time, around 1970–71, in many ways confirm the impressions conveyed by other photographers from this time, depicting the north-eastern region of England as a grey and tired landscape. The only name she remembers being talked about in connection with photographic art was Bill Brandt. As it happened, it was possible to choose photography as a major in the fourth and final year at the school in Sunderland, but Marilyn chose painting.
Raymond Moore, Fletchertown, 1977
The late 1970s also saw the arrival of the first photo magazine in Great Britain to exclusively concern itself with photography as art. Called Creative Camera, the journal presented a wide selection of artistic photography from Britain and abroad. Generally speaking, however, British art photography was not particularly strong in the early 1970s, even if the field boasted photographers such as Raymond Moore and David Bailey. Essentially, British photography of the 1960s and 70s was rather more infused by a relatively harsh and politicised social realism as represented by Chris Killip. Only towards the mid-/late 1970s did figures like Paul Hill and Thomas Joshua Cooper (from the USA) arrive on the scene, becoming teachers at technical/artistic colleges such as the Trent Polytechnic, where Norwegian photographers such as Tom Sandberg, Dag Alveng and Per Berntsen received their education – photographers who in turn returned to Norway and raised the Norwegian photo scene to international standards.
Marilyn Ann Owens, The Backyards, Sunderland, 1971
Chris Killip, Corner Shop, Wallsend, Tyneside, 1976
Marilyn herself has said that around this time she was influenced by Edward Hopper, which is clearly evident in three of her later photographs. A night scene done in colour, depicting a solitary, lit shop is taken straight out of Hopper's world. The same can be said of black and white image of a launderette, dimly lit in a dark street, and of a third nocturnal image of a petrol station devoid of people. There is a quiet sense of desolate abandonment in these pictures, the kind of loneliness you might feel when you go out in the middle of the night and know you are alone – all while no-one else knows you are alone. The three images are entirely straight and matter-of-fact in tone, and today they might just as easily be associated with the New Topographics movement, featuring photographers such as Lewis Baltz and Robert Adams.
Lewis Baltz, Model Home, 1977
Robert Adams, Storm over the Pawnee National Grasslands, Colorado, 1984
Mongolia
The first photos by Marilyn I ever saw were a series of photographs from Mongolia exhibited alongside pictures by Anne Stabell at TKS in Skien in 2014. While these photographs are in colour, the palette is quite naturally limited by the range of colours found in the Mongolian plateau. The images are horizontal, and the lines in the landscape are themselves horizontal or gently undulating. If you look closely, you will discover traces of human influence and perhaps a few domestic animals, but the overall impression is one of vast, airy emptiness. In contrast to some of her black and white pictures, this emptiness is not threatening; rather, it signals an acceptance of how the landscape, and thus also the world around it, can offer a satisfying calm, undisturbed by people. The only person here is the one observing this magnificent, yet muted and understated landscape, a natural setting pervaded by a loneliness which forms a strong contrast to the powerful and insistent feeling of detachment and abandonment that can so easily arise in an urban setting amidst a throng of people. Incidentally, a selection of photos from Mongolia were instrumental in giving Marilyn the encouragement she needed to proceed with photography when she was chosen by a jury at the Preus Museum in Horten to present her photos at the major recurring Photography Day event.
The self-portraits
I have already mentioned one of the self-portraits Marilyn Owens has created by combining two images photographically. Of course, neither this approach nor self-portraits are a rarity in the history of photography, certainly not in our time. Indeed, it is difficult to find an unmanipulated image in photo contests today, and self-portraits have become ubiquitous. But in contrast to the unrestrained narcissism prevalent today, which must be regarded as a manic form of self-affirmation, the self-portrait has always been a vehicle for personal self-scrutiny for artists. Such images are often perceived as uncomfortably intimate, revealing and vulnerable, and in many cases they remain unknown until after the artist's death. Others use the self-portrait consistently in their art, with some even building their entire oeuvre on the genre. In the last category we find artists such as Francesca Woodman and Cindy Sherman, who only show self-portraits (certainly in exhibition contexts), and among the ranks of painters Frida Kahlo is an obvious example. The photographer Diane Arbus was also known for her revealing self-portraits, and from my vantage point within the history of photography, it would seem that for some reason, more women photographers are interested in this genre than men.
Francesca Woodman, Untitled, Providence, Rhode Island, 1975–78
Cindy Sherman, Untitled Film Still no. 48, 1984
Diane Arbus. Self-portrait – A Photograph is a Secret About a Secret, Dora Maar, Double-self-portrait, 1930s
Emerging within the last seven or eight years, Marilyn's self-portraits have clear antecedents in the history of photography. They point back to such different artists as Dora Maar, Francesca Woodman and not least Ana Mendieta. What these three have in common is a shared struggle against a male-dominated art field in general, and against dominant men among their own close relationships in particular. Another point of reference would be Togolese/Belgian artist Hélène Amouzou, who explores the experience of being a stranger in a strange land, never quite accepted, always ready to move on.
Hélène Amouzou, Self portrait, 2008
Marilyn's self-portraits are only rarely recognisable as portraits. While created during the last two years, a couple of them point back to an earlier period in her life. One is the aforementioned self-portrait in which she has inserted herself into a crime scene photo taken by her father, staring directly out at the camera, and in the second, which looks rather like a triple exposure, we see her from behind, half seated, half lying down, her attention turned to a stone wall where a car of 1960s design appears to have crashed. Another very noticeable feature of the image is its clear reference to Andrew Wyeth's most famous painting, ; according to Marilyn, Wyeth was among the artists who were frowned upon while she was a student. Only two pictures of the series let us recognise the sitter's face; in the rest the face is hidden or we see only their back. In all these self-portraits, she melts into the background, which often consists of rocks and stone. The approach infuses the images with a dreamlike feel, reinforcing the contrast between the hard and the soft. She actively uses the different structures of rock and stone; in one picture, a hole left by a drill overlaps the figure's spine, and in others pictures the marks or veins in the stone is reminiscent of scars left behind by a severe whipping. Still other images show her blindfolded, just like a prisoner who is not meant to see where they are taken.
Marilyn's self-portraits are only rarely recognisable as portraits. While created during the last two years, a couple of them point back to an earlier period in her life. One is the aforementioned self-portrait in which she has inserted herself into a crime scene photo taken by her father, staring directly out at the camera, and in the second, which looks rather like a triple exposure, we see her from behind, half seated, half lying down, her attention turned to a stone wall where a car of 1960s design appears to have crashed. Another very noticeable feature of the image is its clear reference to Andrew Wyeth's most famous painting, ; according to Marilyn, Wyeth was among the artists who were frowned upon while she was a student. Only two pictures of the series let us recognise the sitter's face; in the rest the face is hidden or we see only their back. In all these self-portraits, she melts into the background, which often consists of rocks and stone. The approach infuses the images with a dreamlike feel, reinforcing the contrast between the hard and the soft. She actively uses the different structures of rock and stone; in one picture, a hole left by a drill overlaps the figure's spine, and in others pictures the marks or veins in the stone is reminiscent of scars left behind by a severe whipping. Still other images show her blindfolded, just like a prisoner who is not meant to see where they are taken.Marilyn Ann Owens, Crash, 2021
Marilyn's self-portraits are only rarely recognisable as portraits. While created during the last two years, a couple of them point back to an earlier period in her life. One is the aforementioned self-portrait in which she has inserted herself into a crime scene photo taken by her father, staring directly out at the camera, and in the second, which looks rather like a triple exposure, we see her from behind, half seated, half lying down, her attention turned to a stone wall where a car of 1960s design appears to have crashed. Another very noticeable feature of the image is its clear reference to Andrew Wyeth's most famous painting, Christina's World; according to Marilyn, Wyeth was among the artists who were frowned upon while she was a student. Only two pictures of the series let us recognise the sitter's face; in the rest the face is hidden or we see only their back. In all these self-portraits, she melts into the background, which often consists of rocks and stone. The approach infuses the images with a dreamlike feel, reinforcing the contrast between the hard and the soft. She actively uses the different structures of rock and stone; in one picture, a hole left by a drill overlaps the figure's spine, and in others pictures the marks or veins in the stone is reminiscent of scars left behind by a severe whipping. Still other images show her blindfolded, just like a prisoner who is not meant to see where they are taken.
The pictures are technically impressive, particularly in light of the fact that she only began working with photography in earnest some eight to ten years ago. As an artist, she strives for the greatest possible mastery of her chosen medium, regardless of whether that happens to be painting, printmaking or photography. She joined a camera club, not to pick up tips for the contents of her images, but to achieve mastery of the technical aspects, which she certainly did. She has proceeded just as methodically as regards the art history of photography, spending much of her time during the corona shutdown on studying and forming an overview of the history of photography, especially its women practitioners.
Like most other photographers, Marilyn works in parallel series. The self-portraits have already been mentioned, and other examples include series of quarries, of forest interiors, of Tangen fort outside Langesund, plus a series of pictures she did as a research fellow at the island of Jomfruland. All of these series were planned with specific objectives in mind, but her oeuvre also includes many single images that simply cried out to be taken, even if they did not fit into any of her ongoing projects at the moment. Similarly, while she works almost entirely consistently with black and white images, the occasionally single image just has to be in colour. For example, the Mongolia series mentioned above is supplemented by a lovely seascape seen from the Tangen Fort. The image can easily be connected to the Mongolian scenes in terms of form, but a seascape creates completely different kind of calm – the air, and thus the light, takes on a very different feel, imbuing the image with a contemplative quality.
Ana Mendieta
Two of Owens's other colour images are associated with her quarries project. There, too, the main series is in black and white, but among these two slightly strange, almost surreal images suddenly appear. One features a blue blanket placed in shadow, itself a lighter shade of blue, along with a bright red pillow. The blanket imitates the shape of a human figure lying on its side, while the pillow has only a faint impression of a head. The second picture is from the same quarry, but now only a pillow is there, looking rather as if it were made of rusty iron. The soft shape contrasts strongly with the straight-edged fractures of the rock, while the rust colour itself contradicts the pillow's shape. While I cannot know what the artist intended, to me both images appear to be a homage to Ana Mendieta and her dramatic and much-discussed death.
The quarry
The two photos that I take the liberty of calling the 'Mendieta pictures' and even the portraits are closely connected with – and segue into – her series of images from the quarries in Tvedalen in Larvik. Here, Marilyn the graphic artist comes into her own, demonstrating the great diversity that can be prompted by industrial exploitation of a natural resource. Here we find splits and breaks creating surfaces that range from the glossy to the rough; clear-cut geometric shapes that contrast with the natural, organic ones. We also find strangely geometric and semi-geometric pools and bodies of water. What sets these pictures apart is her unfailingly sure sense of composition and her obvious delight in finding such places where nature and industry meet, places which sometimes look as if a giant baby has found some building blocks, played with them for a while, and then gone away again.
Closed Doors, Open Skies
The Tangen Fort project is another example of her series. Tangen Fort still has relatively well-preserved remains of a coastal artillery fort built by the German occupying forces during World War II, and the area has now become a popular hiking area for the local population. Marilyn has visited the site time and time again, taking most of her photos in winter when the crisply outlined, grey and black wall elements form stark contrasts to the white snow. The effect imbues the images with a strongly graphic touch, which, combined with the absence of people, reinforces the sense of abandonment and loneliness. The subject matter is full of geometric shapes, circles, triangles and squares, bricked-up openings and projecting roofs. At the top we find the command centre which monitors the cannons, terrain and sea; an all-seeing eye. Further down we find cannon emplacements, trenches, protective bunkers and walled-up tunnel openings, some with small window slits high up so they look like eyes, but everything is closed up, abandoned and useless. Slowly but surely, nature will reclaim and transform what was once a severe, angular complex. One of the images shows the view towards the sea, but with an intervening snow-covered chain fence barring our access, while the last image in the series is an open and unobstructed sea view with powerfully dramatic cloud formations above.
Broken Boats and Tangled Waters
Marilyn received the Jomfrulandstipendiet grant in 2018 and showed the results of her time on the island at Kragerø Kunstforening the following year. She presented works done in several different media, but here I shall restrict myself to the photographic works on display. Jomfruland is a well-known holiday destination, attracting many summer visitors, but in Marilyn's pictures humans are conspicuously absent. The island is also known for Theodor Kittelsen's famous picture of the creature Nøkken (The Water Sprite) which was painted at a small pond there known as Tårntjernet (Tower Tarn). Marilyn used one of the photographs for the poster, an image that strikes a sombre, melancholy mood amidst the summer paradise. The picture shows a child's sandal lying in perfectly still water. On the surface of the water, just above the sandal, you can see a cloud reflected, a hint of a connection to some higher power. After all, the creature known as Nøkken in Norwegian folklore – often called 'nixie' in English – was known for luring people into the water and was often blamed for drownings. In two other images, she shows us the tarn and the water lilies. With the sandal image at the back of the observer's mind, the dark tones in the black and white images reinforce the mood of melancholy sadness and loss.
Three other images show, respectively, a heap of stones, a fence and a buoy. All three carry strong symbolic weight. The heap of stones is associated with graves, at least in our history; a fence may keep you either in or out, and buoys show the way to safe passage and the harbour.
Cold Comfort
The image Cold Comfort stands completely on its own. A very simple, yet surreal scene. We see a beach with black pebbles and calm, slightly rippling water beyond. Inland from the pebbles there is snow, and right at the edge of the beach stands a radiator. While the vast majority of Marilyn's pictures are symbolic, here the symbolism can be interpreted in many different directions. Where others have seen a comment on the current high cost of electricity, I see a story about human relationships. To me, it expresses how we all need a source of warmth in life, but if there is no means of connection, all is futile. I consider the work a key image in Marilyn's production so far: through very simple means, it poignantly describes the situation of many people today, not least the last couple of years of isolation, anxiety and social distancing. One can read a quiet resignation from the scene, but also a fond hope that something or someone will be able to connect and activate the potential source of warmth.
Following Marilyn's development as a photographer over the past eight to ten years has been an exciting and rewarding journey – and, fortunately, a journey which is still ongoing; we have no idea where or when it will end. After the Jomfruland exhibition, I told her that it was clear these pictures had been taken by an experienced artist, a trait which has only grown even clearer as time has passed. Most photographic artists active at the time leading up to around 2010 were educated at institutions that only trained photographers, and were mainly taught by photographers. Only when you got to the level of art academies did you gain greater access to interdisciplinary teaching, and as everyone knows, places at the highest educational institutions are hard to come by. As a result, non-photographic artists had little or no knowledge of photography, and vice versa.
One of the defining characteristics of Marilyn is her curiosity and voracious appetite for knowledge, which includes technical aspects, historical aspects and current movements on the international photography scene. Also distinctive to her and a few others of her generation is the energy she puts into her search for the next and better image, and not least her sheer productivity.
What I have seen of her work so far is enough for several solo shows, and it is with regret that I have not found it practically possible to write about far more of her pictures. However, neither the exhibition nor this book has unlimited space at their disposal, and both also need to show her long and diverse production within many other aspects of the visual arts. Her pictures are often about existential issues, with perhaps the most obvious theme being the solitary human being. They do not necessarily convey the kind of loneliness that is forced upon you, such as COVID isolation or longing for a partner in life, but the liberating solitude that can free you from suffocating relationships and social conventions, free to do whatever you want. Another theme, expressed with particular force in the self-portraits, is her feminism, embodied through many references to women photographers and other artists who have gone before her.
This book and this exhibition offer an excellent overview of her overall production, of which the non-photographic aspects are already widely known by many. As such, the photographic part is the one that stands out the most, pointing most decisively ahead to an exciting and promising future.
